


I'm no burden (I'm yours to use)

by dwarrowkings



Category: Alex Stern - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Alex has a couple of realizations in a row and takes it poorly, Canon-Typical Drug References, Darlington is tall, F/M, Post-Canon, after darlington is rescued, is he tall? he's tall i've decided, not-canon typical comforting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:35:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25060084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dwarrowkings/pseuds/dwarrowkings
Summary: Darlington is back, but Alex is worried because he seems different. Revelations are had.The look on his face reminds her of something, but she can’t quite make it out in the eddy of her memory.  Alex wonders if he’s even working on trying to get Black Elm back. Before, he’d spent barely the required time with her, showing her the ropes and then leaving her to figure them out. Testing her finding her wanting. Now he settles near her like a cat, not demanding attention, but seeming to enjoy her company.All she can read in his face is interest.
Relationships: Darlington/Alex Stern
Comments: 4
Kudos: 43





	I'm no burden (I'm yours to use)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has a playlist! It can be found on [spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3oGE1E6RgHQhRkrTEKe6O2?si=9efx8_C4RGCyTcbjQ6V-RA)!
> 
> Title from Voodooized by Empires, a really great song which can be found on this playlist! 
> 
> I'd also like to apologize for any inconsistencies, I listened to the audio book and while I can actually listen to books right now (as opposed to reading, which just isn't' happening, y'all), my audio processing is still way lower than my reading comprehension. If i need to correct anything, let me know! 
> 
> Rated T for mentioned past drug use & language.

Alex can feel the weight of Darlington’s gaze on her again. It’s familiar now, in a way she’s not quite comfortable with yet. 

For so long, she’d been avoiding grays, trying to separate herself from their clawing fingers, but that whole time, she’d also been looking away from everything else. From everyone else. Now, grays spoke and she heard. She didn’t look away when she saw them. She looks at Darlington, from time to time. Darlington rarely looks away. 

His hands are wrapped around his coffee mug, leaning against the big stone fireplace in the main parlor at Il Bastone, his de facto home since Sandow barred him from Black Elm. His eyes are dark, half lidded obscuring where his eyes are focused.

The look on his face reminds her of something, but she can’t quite make it out in the eddy of her memory. Alex wonders if he’s even working on trying to get Black Elm back. Before, he’d spent barely the required time with her, showing her the ropes and then leaving her to figure them out. Testing her finding her wanting. Now he settles near her like a cat, not demanding attention, but seeming to enjoy her company. 

All she can read in his face is interest. 

“Darlington.” She says. It’s a full sentence; the subject, verb, and object all rolled into one. He doesn’t shift his focus to her, because he’d already been looking at her. But now she has his attention in a way she hadn’t before. He’d been looking at her in the way a cat stares at a bird chirping in the tree outside, the gaze more longing than anything, as if she was a fantasy. Now his eyes and attention are on her. They’re in the same room together, not separated by panes of glass. 

“Are you all right?” As soon as the words leave her lips, she knows that it’s a stupid question. She hadn't been able to articulate the depth of her concern. 

He raises his eyebrows at her in answer. Under his brows, his eyes are black, empty mouths trying to swallow her up. They make her wonder how it would feel to be devoured. He would know, but she knows that being swallowed up by Darlington would be entirely different than what Darlington had experienced. 

Alex wasn’t sure she’d survive. Sometimes, she wonders if Darlington had, but then he would quote Mallory or talk about the history of New Haven and her heart would swell with longing. He’s there. He’s not the same, but none of them are. 

Darlington takes a sip of his coffee, not breaking eye contact with her. It was starting to affect her, heat writhing like snakes under her skin. 

“Come on,” she goads. “You know what I mean.” He wasn’t all right. He would never be all right again. 

“I’m fine, Alex.” He says. The way his voice says her name feels like even more of a caress than his gaze does. As unsettling as his voice is, his tone was reassuring. Or it was supposed to be. 

“I’ll believe that when I see it.” She laughs, half because she wants to be rid of the nervous energy his fucking eyes on her awakens in her. 

“Why did you ask if you already knew the answer?” He asks. He sounds befuddled but fond. It clenches at something in her gut, turning it over so the feeling can snake through her. 

She decides to be honest. “I wanted to know if the staring was going somewhere, but I was trying to be polite.” It was a pretty poor attempt. 

“Okay.” He says, so un-Darlington that Alex feels the ice creep of fear up her spine. She’d pushed too hard. She didn’t really want to know if he was planning anything, she’d just wanted to know if his focus was on her, or if he just turned his face to her like a sunflower to the sun. 

For all she knew that he was different, he didn’t feel different most of the time. He was still a warm presence curled up behind her. When he walked into a room, tension she didn’t even know she was carrying eased. It was like stepping into the wards of Belbam’s office. Relaxing without realizing why. It set her on edge. 

He shifts his weight, his hips shifting under his jeans. She remembered those hips, pressed against her, his cock hard and interested. But he hadn’t wanted her like that, it had been the Merity. 

The Merity. Fuck. That was the look in his eyes. The desperate wanting worship she’d seen in his eyes when he’d looked up at her from his knees. The fear washes over her, an ocean. She grasps frantically for anything that will keep her afloat. 

In a shot, she’s up and moving. Darlington stands up straight, planting both feet on the ground, ready to move in a moment. She pushes into his space and she can feel him close off a little. He cradles the coffee to his chest. She plucks it from his hand, puts it on the mantle. 

“Open your mouth.” Surprise blooms over his face. This close she can see the deep wells of dark circles under his eyes, sleepless nights building upon themselves. 

“No?” he says. Quick as a flash, she pounces, shoving her thumb in his mouth and pushing his jaw down. He lets her, but his brows knit together. He holds his tongue away from her thumb and she bares her teeth in frustration. 

“Let me see your tongue.” She demands. Her fingers curl tightly under his chin. His breathing is slow, but in a deliberate way, hot and puffing over her hand and wrist, spreading heat down her arm. She can almost see the pulse rabbiting at his throat. She hopes he can’t feel hers doing the same. “Darlington, come on.” His tongue relaxes, touching the tip to her thumb curiously. It’s warm, wetting her thumb but not letting the heat escape anywhere but directly into her blood, chasing away the fear. Focus, Stern. This is important. 

She pushes her thumb farther into his mouth, the pad of her thumb sliding over his tongue, and presses gently down, trying to open his mouth and peer in. Pink. Pink pink pink. Shit.

“Alex,” he attempts to say with her thumb in his mouth. She can feel his tongue flex and curve, heat slipping further down. The look in his eyes is understanding. She pulls her hand away, wiping it on her jeans. 

Darlington closes his mouth, his tongue peeking out to wet his bottom lip. Alex tries to pretend that she doesn’t know that he’s chasing the taste of her on his skin. Tries to quell the heat that bolts through her with the knowledge. 

"Sorry.” She’s not sorry; she had to be sure. But it sounds true, at least. She was wrong, and she regrets that. The absence of answers, or at least easy ones, in the wake of the heat in her belly makes her uneasy. Uncomfortable. It’s an odd feeling to have around Darlington. Like an ill-fitting shirt. She hadn’t realized that Darlington had made her feel… comfortable. His presence lowers her defenses. 

Darlington makes Alex feel safe. 

He must see something on her face, because he says “Alex,” softly, and oh, so tender. It scares her, in the part of her brain that controls fight or flight. There’s nothing to fight. She flees. 

She ends up in the bathroom down the hall, instinctively going somewhere that Darlington hasn’t previously followed her. Safe from Darlington, but her hackles are up because he’s not there to watch her back. 

She washes her hands, because she can’t stand the thought of Darlington’s spit on her hand any longer. Then she puts her wet hands to her cheeks, feeling the flush there and trying to cool it. 

There’s a polite knock on the door. “Just a minute!” she calls. She knows it’s Darlington, but for now she can pretend it’s Dawes. She wipes her hand on the fluffy white hand towel, blots at her blotchy cheeks. She stares herself in the eye until she barely recognizes herself. 

Darlington makes her feel safe. Alex can count on one finger the people who had ever made her feel safe. She goes to the door, puts her hand on the handle. She can’t turn it. Alex has been brave before, but then she was angry. It’s easy to be brave when you’re angry. Brazen. Cocky, even. She’s been brave when she was sad too. 

But this is something altogether different. She’s terrified not because she knows she’ll fuck it up - that’s almost a given. But what if she doesn’t? Alex hardly knows what to do with herself when she gets the right coffee order, much less someone who knows everything (or as close to everything as anyone can get) about her and still… cares. 

That means that Darlington isn’t looking for a character that Alex can play; he’s interested in Alex. The thought makes tears well up in her eyes. No one has ever wanted her for herself before. Who is she, underneath? Even Lethe just wanted what she could do for them. 

Alex bites her lips to keep them from trembling. To keep herself from saying “Darlington.” Again. 

“Alex?” Darlington asks from the other side of the door. She puts her hand on it, scratches her nails against the paned wood to curl her hand into a fist. 

“Damnit, Darlington.” she says, forcing herself to be angry. “What the fuck?” She pretends that the last sounded angry instead of lost. 

“It’s all right, Alex.” He coaxes. He doesn’t turn the door knob. She doesn’t even know where his hands are. Alex doesn’t turn the handle either. “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” 

“No.” She chokes out. She can feel her hand trying to turn the knob and stops herself. 

“That’s fine,” he gentles. “Do you want me to go?” He sounds like he means it. Like he’d go, if she asked. Maybe he would do anything she asked. 

“No!” She slaps her hand over her mouth, turning the door handle with the other. Fuck. She swings the door outward, and Darlington is there, peering at her in concern through the cracked door. Metaphorically, someone put a warm blanket on her shoulders. 

“Alex.” He breathes her name like a prayer, like it’s a relief to see her again even though he’d known where she was and had been talking to her. 

“What is it, then?” She asks, harshly. Darlington knows all the drugs and potions and compounds available to all the Houses. It’s one of them, if it isn’t Merity. He can’t love her. He’s too good. Finally, after weeks of nothing, of waiting, a problem she can fix. 

She pushes the door open and takes a step forward as he takes a step back. Almost a dance, almost rehearsed. 

“What’s what?” He looks taken aback at her abrupt turn. 

“Whatever you’ve been given to convince you that you like me all of a sudden.” Darlington looks gobsmacked. “It was Merity last time. I’m sure that there’s no end to the things that could make you act like this. We just have to figure out which one it is.” 

Darlington doesn’t say anything. 

“We can do this. We can fix it.” Alex straightens her shoulders. Darlington looks at her like she’s gone off the deep end, but the undercurrent of admiration is still there. 

“Alex,” he starts. Alex takes a steady step forward, and doesn’t let him continue. Then another. She heads back to the living room she’d vacated, just to have somewhere to go. She knicks Darlingghton’s coffee off the mantle and takes a bracing sip. It’s cold, but it will do. She puts it down with a grimace. She always forgets that Darlington likes his coffee to be more cream and sugar than anything else.

Darlington follows her at a more hesitant pace. “Alex.” Alex picks up a book, any book, and starts to flip through the pages. There has to be an index, or maybe she could talk to Cody or Katie. 

“Alex,” Darlington says again. He steps closer than he’s dared in weeks and cups his hands under hers holding the book. He presses them gently and the book closes with a quiet thump. He holds it for a moment, weighted and silent. “I haven’t been given anything.” 

She can’t look at his face. So he’d done this to himself. That was almost as bad. No, it was worse. He’d decided he needed to convince himself to spend time with her. “What did you take?” 

“Nothing.” Darlington sounds so sure. Like he’s trying to reassure her. It isn’t the least bit reassuring. His hands burn around hers, his touch searing into her skin in the best way. 

“Oh, come off it. We both know you resent that you didn’t get to choose your Dante. Compared to the rest, I'm just…” she didn’t want to say it, but she had to. She turns her face away from the sight of him gently cupping her hands in his. It's too much, it's not enough. “I’m nothing, Darlington. I’m only good for seeing grays and I tried for so long to not even be good at that.” 

“That’s not true.” He says. Alex snorts. It is true. “I did resent you, a little. Because I didn't know you. I only saw what I wanted to at first. Someone coasting in with a power they didn’t earn when I’d worked so hard to see beyond the veil - any veil.” Darlington’s hands leave hers, and the book almost drops. He catches it, and puts it on the table. 

“Then I saw you work yourself to the bone to find Tara’s killer. All those things you did to save Lethe.” She hadn't turned to face him, couldn’t bear to face what she'd find there. He touches her jaw gently. “Alex,” he said again, nudging her to face him. “You saved my life.” 

Alex burst out a surprised laugh. “I did the fuck not. You saved yourself in that beast.” 

“I did.” He agrees easily. “Because of you.” He tips his head toward her as he says it, emphasizing the words. What? “I knew what was coming, I thought, and I wanted to protect you. I could see Sandow moving the pieces around the chessboard to frame you for his own failures. I couldn’t let that happen. I found a way to save parts of myself so I could get back to you.”

“Because you needed me.” 

“No Alex. Because I wanted you to need me.” A gasping sob finally breaks through her defenses. The last time she cried like this was for Hellie.

“I did need you.” Darlington looks stricken. “I needed you and you weren’t there.” She looks over his shoulder at the mantle, trying not to let the tears spill down her cheeks. She drags her sleeve over her hand and uses it to wipe away the wetness at her eyes. 

Alex isn't sure if Darlington doesn't say anything because he can't find the words, or if he knows that there are none. It doesn't matter. He reaches for her, slowly, telegraphing his intent, giving her the chance to move away. The ability to say no. 

He puts his hands on her shoulders first, warm and comforting. Alex falls into his chest, leaning into the warmth of his body. His arms wrap around her shoulders, fisting in the back of her shirt. She tucks her head into his neck and breathes him in. Alex hasn’t been hugged like this in a long time. She lets herself revel in it, soaking in his warmth. 

She wants to apologize for leaving him to be eaten all alone, but she can’t force the words out. His grip on her shirt eases until he’s cupping his hands on her shoulders, arms crossed over her back. 

He’s here. And for now, she feels safe. “Thank you,” she says. For calming her down, for being patient. For being there, this time.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I really wanted to get to the kissing (and more), but I had to get the "Darlington makes her feel safe" out of my head ever since Alex said "would she ever feel safe again?" comment in the book. It really struck a chord with me.


End file.
